


Jane Eyre as the Bee Movie

by aerxnxlga



Category: Bee Movie (2007), Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerxnxlga/pseuds/aerxnxlga
Summary: Hi so this was written four years ago as an English assignment, the prompt was “rewrite a scene from Jane Eyre as a piece of pop culture” and my garbage brain came up with this monstrosity. I’m ashamed to have created this but it’s also my life’s work and I’m very proud of it so here you go.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Jane Eyre as the Bee Movie

According to all known social laws of 19th-century England, there is no way Jane Eyre should be able to marry Edward Rochester. Her social status as a governess is too lower-class to be romantically involved with a wealthy Byronic hero. Jane, of course, marries Rochester anyways, because Jane does not care what 19th-century England thinks is impossible.

“And if you've done this step properly, you should be ready for the tub.” The clergyman gave a satisfied smile as he set down the finished paper boat on the pulpit. The congregation murmured in apprehension while completing their own paper boats.  
Mr. Rochester, I mean Edward, raised a single disdainful eyebrow. “Might we move along with the ceremony?” I swallowed down the second hand embarrassment of my groom’s rudeness and gently cleared my throat.  
“Yes, good sir, might we proceed?” I gave my sweetest smile to compensate for my fiance's harsh tone. As I looked from the priest to Edward, I noticed the latter's tapping foot and surreptitious glance across the audience before frowning and turning to face the priest without meeting my eyes. Remembering the way Edward had become flustered and refused all company earlier after the arrival of a pair of strangers, I wondered to myself at his uncharacteristic mood.  
The clergyman gave a nervous chuckle before swallowing audibly.  
“Where's the fire?” he quipped as he thumbed his way to the proper page of his Bible. “Do you, Edward Fairfax Roches-”  
“The fire, good people, occurred only hours after the happy couple met; a fire that threatened the life of our dear Edward Rochester before the lovely Miss Eyre showed up to save the day, which arguably led to to this day” boomed an unfamiliar voice. I whipped my head around to see the male half of the two strangers whose presence had disturbed Edward so striding down the aisle. My fiance sputtered angrily at my side as the small, bumbly man in a black and yellow coat climbed the stairs of the altar and inserted himself between us. The busy stranger smirked at Edward before once again addressing the transfixed audience.  
“The reason I bring up this fire is not because of its effects; rather, it is the fire’s cause that is my concern. The fire, you see, was started by none other than the wife of Edward Rochester!” The crowd erupted in whispers at this last proclamation. Fuming at the interruption, Edward loomed over the smaller man and spat into his face, “As you can see, my good sir, you are currently preventing the completion of my wedding ceremony, so it could not possibly have been my wife who started the fire. Anyways, you said yourself that Jane is the one who put out the fire, so why would she have started it?” The round-bodied stranger smiled smugly and delicately pushed against Edward's chest before reaching into the inner pocket of his coat and pulling out a sealed letter.  
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Barry B. Briggs, and I’m a lawyer who has been contracted to represent the Mason family,” he announced. “Mason, now where have I heard that name before?”, I thought to myself, before noticing the familiar woman strutting towards the altar. Mr. Briggs helps her up to the pulpit as she smooths her black pantsuit.  
“My name is Vanessa Mason, and my sister Bertha was married to Edward Rochester fifteen years ago in Jamaica. That document in Mr. Briggs’ hand is a copy of their marriage certificate.” As the brunette completes her testimony, I recognize her as both the stranger accompanying Mr. Briggs before the ceremony and as the sultry woman who was mysteriously injured at one of the most recent parties held at Thornfield.  
By this time the crowd of spectators had erupted into loud exclamations. Edward turned to the priest and spoke with him in hushed fury, presumably an attempt to resume the wedding. After a brief argument, Edward turned back to the crowd and drew himself to his full height.  
My- possibly former?- groom calmly yet firmly admitted to the audience that the pair’s accusations were true, that he had married Bertha Mason and once she went mad he locked her away in his attic. Upon hearing his words, I slowly backed out of the room in shock. It was beginning to feel as though my life had turned into a plot twist in a fantastically awful animated children's movie written and starred in by 90's comedian Jerry Seinfeld.


End file.
